


A Servant's Heart

by BlindTiger



Series: A Heart's Bond [1]
Category: Original - Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Gen, Mind Control, Mind Manipulation, Non-Sexual Slavery, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Original Universe, Science Fiction, Slavery, Space Battles, Space Flight, Space Stations, Telepathy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-28
Updated: 2016-01-12
Packaged: 2018-02-27 07:28:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2684408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlindTiger/pseuds/BlindTiger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Meriah, a young Mrr'tani, is the servant gamekeeper of her human master.  A visitor comes calling to the estate and his revelations will lead her on an interstellar voyage of discovery as she learns about her people and her own destiny and calling.  But she can't fulfill her calling alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

** Part 1 - Servant **

Chapter 1

Meriah sat in one of the taller trees on the property. The night wind blew the scents and the sounds from all over the grounds to her perch in the crotch of two large branches. She wasn't large by any stretch of the word, even for a Mrr'tani. There were many of her kind on the grounds, and of all of them that she'd met, she was by far the smallest who had reached maturity. She stood less than five of what the Master would call 'feet,' and she was light on her feet. No one who saw her, though, would mistake her for being frail or weak. She was active and nimble and her body showed it.

 

She shared the same characteristics of all her kind, and the Master said that she reminded him of the 'cats' from the old world he called 'Earth.' She'd seen some of the pictures of this place, and read about these beings that he compared her to, and she could see why he made the comparison. In fact, she often wondered after some of her studies whether these 'cats' shared a common ancestor with her kind. But that was silly. The Mrr'tani's home world was far away from the Master's, and the lessons said that all of the inhabitants of that world had died out long ago, after the humans had turned the planet into a barren rock drifting in space.

 

The fur covering her body kept her warm against the cool night air, and her nose twitched between quivering whiskers as she scented something on the air. She knew every scent beneath the dome, and she knew exactly what it was, though the fact that she was able to smell it this late at night brought a furrow to her brow.

 

Meriah was the Master's gamekeeper. She was trained from a young girl to keep animals and to manage the land. There was never a time in her life that she could remember anything other than the land beneath the plastisteel dome. She couldn't recall a single scent that wasn't contained within, unless the Master brought guests or other of her kind. The previous gamekeeper had passed beyond the previous season, and that had left Meriah on her own, finally.

 

Her sharp eyes picked out movement on the ground below her and she readied her bow. Her sensitive fingers picked out an arrow by touch and she slid the nock onto the string and waited, the only sound the wind in the trees and the rustling of the grass beneath her. Her breathing was quiet enough that not even she could pick it out over the other ambient sounds of nature around her. To her left, beneath another tree, one of the small rodents that plagued the Master's garden stirred and then ran, trying to make its way through grass that was much taller than itself.

 

That was the stimulus needed, it seemed, for Meriah's quarry to show itself. With only a quiet flutter of wings to betray it, the bird swooped out of the branches, diving for the dinner presented in that scurrying rodent. The silhouette was instantly recognizable as a S'cree, one of the birds from the Mrr'tani home world. With a wingspan even wider than Meriah was tall and talons long enough to puncture an adult human's skull, the bird was a formidable predator. The conditions under the dome were almost tailor made for it to survive, as the Master enjoyed bringing his guests to his meadows to hunt the majestic bird. Unfortunately, sometimes the meadows were too good for them, and the balance began to tip. It was her job to maintain that balance to keep the Master's fields full of life and well-maintained. Tonight, that meant that the S'cree was hers.

 

She lifted the bow and drew the string back, anchoring her fingers in just the right place. One quiet breath and everything was still. The sound of her mind quieted and her vision narrowed down to just her arrow and the bird, and when she let go of the string, she knew that the arrow would hit its mark. It was a distinctive thing that she'd learned over the years, hunting with the bow, and it had never failed her. She held her posture as the arrow sailed through the air, not even daring to move even as it hit and pierced the bird's heart. It wasn't until the S'cree fell from the air and hit the ground that Meriah allowed herself to relax back to her natural, wary posture.

 

Through all of the encounter, there was nary a sound. The Master would be pleased, since he didn't like to be awakened at night by the sounds of hunting rifles. Though she'd never experienced it herself, she knew what happened to those who displeased him, and she had no intention of letting it happen to her. Besides, the ones that found themselves at his displeasure usually earned it. They were the lazy ones, the thieves, the ones that should have been thrown out of the dome. They were the ones that didn't bear thinking of.

 

She shook her head and banished those thoughts from her mind then slung her bow and climbed down out of the tree. Her feet were surely placed on the branches, as if she'd lived in the trees her whole life. In a way, she thought perhaps she had. On the last layer of branches, she lowered herself to her hands and feet, letting all of her claws dig into the soft bark as she moved along the ever narrowing branch. When she felt it becoming too weak to support her, she leapt off the end. Her hand stretched out before her as her feet extended behind her with her tail touching her calves. She almost let out a sound of pure joy, but stifled it just before it would have come out.

 

She landed almost atop the dead bird and skidded to a halt. She stood still and listened to the sound of the woods around her, making sure that she hadn't woken anyone, and when everything was silent, she made her way to the bird. Her shot was good, as she knew it would be, and she had only to pull the arrow from the carcass. The feathers were too beautiful and useful to be used to clean the arrow, so she picked the bird up by the talons, holding the arrow in between her fingers as she hoisted the dead weight over her shoulder. She would have a feast tonight, and there would be some to share later on.

 

***

 

Her home was a small, one-room cottage made of local wood that sat on the edge of the trees, on the divide between the forest land and the meadow land. A small fence surrounded the cottage, sturdy enough to keep out some of the more determined hoofed wildlife. The gate squeaked quietly when she opened it and she smiled. The old gamekeeper, Lyria, said that she always meant to get it fixed. Now that she was gone, Meriah didn't see the point. It was a familiar sound, something that always welcomed her home when she was finished for the day. A small gravel path led her from the gate to the front steps of the cottage. Off to the side of the path was her modest little garden, growing all kinds of things that she found in the forest. Between that and the game that she took, she fed herself rather well, and she'd never had to lean on the worker rations that were available to all the Mrr'tani.

 

She didn't take the front steps, though. Instead she walked around the back of the small cottage and took up a seat on the back steps. There was much that needed to be done before she could call it a night. From the sheath on her ankle, she drew a small knife and set it on the deck beside her where it would stay while she plucked the feathers. A small bucket sat by her favorite seat and the feathers went into it to be cleaned later. The light of the twin moons shone through the dome and she worked in their surprisingly bright light.

 

It took her only a short while to have the bird's carcass dressed and cleaned, and when it was, she opened the door of the cold storage box and threw it inside. She smiled as she looked down at herself, covered in blood and feathers and other, less pleasant things. With a quick look around, she stripped off her clothing, tossing it to the side of the porch where she would find it in the morning. She could put off washing it until then at least.

 

Picking the feathers out of her fur, she walked out the gate and a little ways into the forest. A small path led to a small pool surrounded by rocks and trees. It was fed by a small stream that flowed into it and the water disappeared on the other side through a crack in the rocks into an underground cave system. Two quiet steps took her into the cool water deep enough that she couldn't touch the floor of the pool. She floated for a time, letting the water buoy her while she gazed at the stars and the moons. Somewhere up there was where her people were from. She often wondered if they were still there, or if, like the humans, they'd run their planet out of all it could give. The books that she learned from when she was very young spoke only of human history and had little to say of the Mrr'tani. When she asked questions, she was told not to think about it.

 

Finally, the chill of the water soaked through her fur and she swam to the edge of the pool and dragged herself out, now clean and sopping wet. A quick shake took most of the water from her fur, and the rest would dry before she got back to the cottage. The thoughts of her people were pushed from her head with the list of things already forming in her head that needed to be done when the sun rose. There was never much time to be idle, and now that she was clean, there was even less excuse to be lazy. Besides, the sun would be up in fewer hours than she wanted to contemplate, and if she wanted any sleep before the morning came, she had to get herself to bed and to sleep soon. The greater questions of life could wait.

 

***

 

She was back in the tree, and the world had narrowed down to the single view of her arrow tip and the plunging S'cree. She could hear the sound of her inhale and the rest of the world stopped. She could feel as her heartbeat slowed and her breath almost froze in her throat. Every feather on the S'cree's body stood out in her vision with even more detail than she could have managed even at the time. She could feel the feathery touch of the arrow's vanes against the side of her cheek and the shaft against her whiskers. On the air was the scent of the forest and an early blooming flower. Everything was as it should have been.

 

Then, overlaid atop her own anticipation of the kill, she could feel another, more foreign feeling. It was excitement, hunger, determination. The feelings came on slowly even as time seemed to stop around her. Slowly, her eyes closed in a blink and when they opened again, they were looking down at the tall grass beneath her, watching the vibration of the long blades. With vision sharper than any she'd ever experienced, she saw her talons raking forward into her field of view and the feeling of determination increased. There was one single thing in the world and that was the rodent in the grass. That was what would feed her chicks back at the nest and what would keep her alive until the next time she needed to hunt. There was no awareness whatsoever of the danger in the drawn bow in the tree across the meadow. At least there wasn't until she realized what she was seeing. Only then did Meriah's consciousness recognize her own figure crouched in the foliage, about to loose the arrow that would end the bird's life.

 

The pain was sudden and sharp, and she couldn't breathe. Time sped up and the ground rushed towards her and she knew that she'd failed. She knew that her nest and her chicks would not survive the coming days. Life would move on without them.

 

As the S'cree's eyes shut, a sharp sound rapped at the back of Meriah's mind. Three quick, loud taps and then they stopped. The view shifted again, this time she was looking up through the blades of grass as death itself descended on her and there was nothing but a paralyzing fear. She couldn't move, she couldn't breathe, she could do nothing but look up and watch it come. And then salvation came in the form of a precisely targeted arrow. Another three taps sounded when the arrow hit the S'cree, more insistent, louder, and closer to the forefront of her consciousness.

 

Again they sounded, this time much louder and the feeling of the outsider hit her again as the dream faded into black. She awoke on her bed with the light of the morning sun beginning to light her window. She looked around her room, the vision clearing from her head as she heard the tapping again. Her door! There was only one person who ever knocked on her door, the Master. And there was only one response to his summons.

 

"One moment, please, Master," she called, throwing the sheet back off the bed.

 

As her feet hit the floor, she shook her head, trying to clear the strange sense of another within her head that didn't want to go away. She could feel anxiety that wasn't her own. A nervous energy that was well contained, but just there beneath the surface. As different as the feeling was, there was something familiar about it, as if she'd felt it before.

 

She didn't have time to think about it, though. The Master was waiting. She stood and took only long enough to pull on a well-worn and comfortable robe as she headed for the door, her bare feet making almost no sound on the wooden floor of her cottage. When she opened the door, the Master turned from his survey of the meadow to regard her. He was tall for a human and he stood a good sixty centimeters taller than Meriah. He was trim and fit, and she heard that others of his kind found him reasonably attractive, though she couldn't say the same, given his lack of fur and the strange features of his face. She did admit to a bit of fascination about him, though.

 

The Master had practically raised her, and one of her very first memories of him was when his face was covered in the fur that some of the humans could grow. She never understood why he removed it. Now he looked far too fleshy and fragile, like a human kit. He was the closest thing to a father that she'd ever known, and though she harbored a fondness for him, she was always careful to observe the courtesies that she knew were expected of her, given her station.

 

She bowed when she opened the door, bending a knee and lowering her head to the point of almost touching it. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that he'd brought along another, a Mrr'tani male that she didn't remember ever meeting before.

 

"Good morning, Master," she said, keeping her head bowed.

 

"Good day to you, Meriah," the Master said. He reached out his hand and placed it on her head. "Please, be at ease."

 

The feel of the Master's hand on the back of her head was one of comfort and she couldn't help but smile. She knew that favor that she held with him. Though she was but one of his Mrr'tani servants, he was never anything but kind to her, and sometimes she suspected he saw her as something more than simply a servant.

 

"I apologize, Master," Meriah said as she straightened, "I have just awakened, and I have not had a chance to start tea."

 

Meriah made it a point to always have tea on hand in the mornings. She would drink it while she watched the sunrise, and she would have it on hand in case the Master should appear at her door. She tried to hide any sign of the twisting in her stomach as she admitted her mistake.

 

"Think nothing of it, Meriah," the Master said. "I understand you had a late night last night."

 

Meriah nodded and stepped out of the way of the door, motioning the Master and his guest inside. The tension inside eased slightly at the easy tone in the Master's voice, and she hurried along in front of him towards her small kitchen area. It took little effort to fill her dented kettle and put it on her stove. With a match to the kindling inside the stove, soon she had a roaring fire within. The ritual was second nature to her and she had plenty of attention to spare for the strange feelings inside her head. It felt almost crowded, as if something was pushing against the inside of her skull.

 

"I did, Master," she answered the unspoken question as she worked. "I took a S'cree in the early morning. I must take another two before their numbers are back in balance."

 

She frowned as the subtle feeling of anxiety calmed just slightly in the back of her mind. For some reason, her eyes were drawn to the Master's guest. He was of average size for a Mrr'tani, though she could tell by looking at him that he'd not had the easiest life. His ears drooped atop his head and his fur showed the scars of a hard life. He looked underfed and even though the clothing that he wore was clean and dry, it hung from his body as if he was a kit playing dress up. As she watched, one ear raised on his head and she could see the telltale notches. There were two of them, one on either side of his ear. It told her that the man with the Master had shirked his duties and ran away twice. Once more and he would be delivered to the camps.

 

The anxiety had turned to curiosity, a burning desire to know the answer to a question. What the question was, she could not tell, but she felt her eyes widening as she realized that the feelings were coming from this man. They felt so familiar to her because they were from another Mrr'tani, but they were alien because they were not her own.

 

The whistling of the kettle brought her out of her thoughts and she turned away, hiding her own curiosity behind the busywork of putting together a tea tray for the Master and his guest.

 

"Did you use the rifle I left for you?" the Master asked.

 

Meriah shook her head, still collecting the pieces to the tray. "No, master. I prefer my bow. It is quieter and less likely to disturb your rest."

 

The Master chuckled and when Meriah turned around, she saw genuine amusement on his face. She could feel herself relaxing, letting go of the tension that she didn't knowthat she was carrying. She'd been worried that he would be mad that she didn't use the tool that he had left.

 

"You are a fascinating creature, Meriah," he said. "Not many would turn down a rifle when it was offered."

 

"There is a connection, Master, between the hunter and the prey, and the rifle serves only to distance the hunter from that connection," Meriah explained as she brought the tea tray across to her small table. She noticed that neither the Master or his guest had taken any of the meager seating available in the cottage.

 

"But it would make the hunter's work easier and quicker," the Master countered. "Surely that counts for something."

 

"Taking a life should never be easy," Meriah said sharply. As soon as the words left her mouth, she shut it, almost wishing for a way to bring the words back. She bowed her head quickly with a quiet squeak and blushed beneath her fur. "Please, Master," she said, maintaining her penitent posture, "I did not mean for my tone to be as it was."

 

"Meriah," the Master said as he took a seat, "you've been with me for longer than any other of my Mrr'tani. One of the things that I like about you is that you never hesitate to speak your mind. I appreciate that more than I can tell you."

 

Meriah looked up from her bow and saw the smile playing across the Master's face and she relaxed even further. She could feel a very faint sense of amusement occupying the same place as the anxiety she felt earlier, and when her eyes were drawn back to the other Mrr'tani she saw one side of his muzzle quirking into a lopsided grin.

 

She set the tray down on the table without taking her eyes from the other of her kind. She couldn't help taking another look at him now that she could at least accept what was going on. Though he looked undernourished and slightly unhealthy, there was something about him. It was his eyes, she finally admitted. There was a sharp intelligence behind them, and they regarded her with more than simple curiosity. Even as she looked at him, feeling a little like s specimen in the parks that the humans called 'zoos,' she could feel the amusement focusing into an even more intense curiosity and scrutiny. The focus made her blush, finally realizing that she was staring.

 

Turning her head away from the guest, she busied herself in preparing the tea, trying to regain control of her own thoughts. With the other feelings inside her head, she didn't even feel like her mind was her own and it made it difficult to perform even the usual motions of pouring tea. She relaxed into the routine and let the muscle memory take over from her conscious thought and as she did, she spared a thought to what was going on.

 

She knew she should tell the Master about these feelings, but for some reason a part of her found that idea to be unappealing to say the least. It was something that she could barely understand herself, that she couldn't even convince herself was happening if she was going to be totally honest. Why would the Master believe her when she told him that ever since she'd awakened from a strange dream, she could feel his guest inside her head? He would just tell her that she was imagining things, or worse, send her to be evaluated. The last thing she wanted now was a visit to the clinic. The humans there were more curious than they had a right to be about her kind, and every time she went there, she felt like she was being studied rather than being healed. She didn't want to think about what they would do with this complaint. Besides, the man hadn't said a single word since she'd opened the door.

 

So instead of saying something, she made herself go through the motions perfectly, pouring the Master his cup of tea first. Then she poured another and bowed slightly to the older Mrr'tani. Only when the Master and his guest had taken theirs did she pour one for herself. All the things that either of her guests would need was on the tray, so she took her own mug, comfortable and familiar in her hand, even with the little chip out of the rim - earned when one of the huge field rats from the meadow was loosed inside her home last winter. Her hands cupped the warm stoneware and she shook her head a little, trying to clear it as she waited patiently for the Master to begin to tell her why he and his guest were there.

 

"This is Jacques, Meriah. He came in with the last round of new servants, and he'll be serving as my manservant."

 

Meriah nodded and looked at the other Mrr'tani, giving him another look over. He really didn't make her think of someone that would be attending to someone as powerful in the human world as the Master, but it wasn't for her to question his choice. Some of her consternation or confusion must have shown on her face, because the Master chuckled quietly.

 

"He's a little ragged now, but he has impeccable taste."

 

The look of intense scrutiny was still on his face as she watched him, and it made her feel self-conscious, knowing what he was to the Master now. And here she was sitting at the table in nothing but her dressing robe. She could feel a touch of heat gracing her cheeks beneath her fur, but she didn't let herself look away. This was the man that she would be speaking to when she needed to talk to the Master, the one that would decide what information could be passed from her to him.

 

She'd trained the last manservant well, and they had a very companionable relationship, though old Ives had been a part of the household since far before Meriah had even been considered. He'd been more involved with her upbringing than any other beneath the dome. She felt a pang of loss as she thought about him, but she stepped on it and controlled it long before it reached her face.

 

She couldn't help that her eyes lingered on those two notches on Jacques' ear, nor could she help wondering just why it was that the Master would choose such an obviously unfit servant to be so close to him. A human's manservant was one of the servants of the house that was the closest day in and day out to the Master. It was always a position that was filled by one of the most trusted Mrr'tani in his service. This one had already proven his nature. She looked back at the Master, almost dragging her eyes away from Jacques.

 

"As you say, Master," she acknowledged quietly. There was nothing else that she could say or do. But she made a note to keep an eye on the new arrival. The human across the table from her was truly her Master, and she understood that she was but another piece of his property, but she saw so much more than that when she looked at him. He was her mentor and her guardian, and she would not allow a newcomer to harm him.

 

The feeling of curiosity spiked with a sense of concern and worry when the thought crossed her mind. She realized that her face had hardened and that the muscles were tight in her muzzle. Her whiskers were forward as they always were when she found prey or danger. Jacques could read her face just as well as she could, and in that one moment, she finally stopped pretending that whatever was happening was solely in her imagination. Still, she didn't make any move that would acknowledge what she felt.

 

"So tell me about your night, Meriah," the Master said as he leaned back in the chair, a content smile on his face.

 

Meriah took the Master's relaxation as invitation to her own relaxation and the tension in the room seemed to flow out of it as she began to tell him about her hunting during the night. Her story lasted longer than the tea in the mugs, and when she was finished, she had almost forgotten about the subtle little press of another's emotions in the back of her head.

 

***

 

"Good day, Meriah," the Master said as he walked out the door. He turned around on the other side of the threshold and ruffled her fur on top of her head. "I'll leave the rifle with you and you can use it as you see fit."

 

"Many thanks, Master," Meriah replied with a bow.

 

"Now, go rest for the day. I'm sure you're going to have another few long nights before you've got the S'cree reined in."

 

"I expect a week of night hunts, Master," Meriah said.

 

"I'll have the cook send out some food and leave it inside your door for you for breakfast and dinner."

 

Meriah bowed as the Master turned and walked off the small porch. Jacques followed him close behind and Meriah closed the door. When it was closed, she heaved a sigh of relief. She could still feel Jacques' emotions perched there in the back of her skull, and the intense curiosity that she'd felt from him earlier had dulled somewhat over the course of the tea conversation. Now she could feel his concern, tinged with something she was even more aware of: fear. But beneath all of it was a core of excitement that burned brightly. It was barely there, and she could tell that it was something that he was trying to keep well controlled, but it was there nonetheless.

 

She could hear the Master's voice outside the door and she paused, quieting her breathing to listen.

 

"Well, you've seen her," the Master said. "What say you?"

 

"It remains to be seen, my lord," another voice answered. Meriah could only assume it belonged to Jacques. "But she has the gift. Did you not see her face?"

 

"I saw the same old Meriah. She's not the most trusting of the Mrr'tani, Jacques."

 

"It was there, my lord. And from the way that she looked, it has just recently come on."

 

"So what does that mean? Is she the one they're looking for?"

 

"I cannot say yet, my lord. Many can feel others, but very few can make others feel them, and I did not feel even the slightest trace of her."

 

"I got you out here so that you could tell me these things, Jacques. I didn't save your skin from that third notch just to have you tell me that you can't deliver."

 

"My lord," Meriah heard the hesitation in his voice. He should be afraid, she thought, if he was facing the final notch.

 

"What I said was honest. I have the gift. It is rare for a male to have it, and when we do, it is weaker than any female's, but it is there. What I said is that I did not feel even a trace. It means that she was hiding from me. I would guess that it was unintentional, possibly instinctual, but it was there."

 

"Bottom line, whiskers," the Master demanded. Meriah had to stifle a sound. She'd never heard the Master use such language around any of her servants. Perhaps he did realize what kind of Mrr'tani he was dealing with.

 

"I have never met one so young that could hide so well, my lord. It speaks highly to her being one of the ones they seek."

 

Meriah could feel the press of Jacques' fear against her mind and she focused on stilling her breathing. She used the same technique that she did when she was hunting and she needed to be still. It worked just as well now as it always did in the bush.

 

"Fine. You are to ensure that not a soul knows about this. You and I are the only ones. If I find from anyone that they know, I will personally deliver your third notch."

 

There was a steel in the Master's voice that Meriah had never heard before, and as he spoke she felt a determination within the other Mrr'tani.

 

"If she is one of the Mothers, then I wish her safe possibly even more than you, my lord."

 

Meriah heard steps on the gravel outside her door and the voices faded as they walked away. Thankfully, so did Jacques' press of emotions in the back of her mind. Still, she didn't move. She stayed where she was with her back against the hard wooden door, willing her knees to keep her up. They did, but only by pure strength of will.

 

What did they mean, the gift? Was that what it was? The feeling that she had all morning was a gift? From what it sounded like, Jacques had the same gift. That made her want desperately to fling open the door and run out to ask the questions that were swirling around in her head, but she knew that she couldn't. She could tell from the Master's voice and the words that he used that he didn't entirely trust this Jacques. She had felt his emotions, though, and she knew a little deeper than the Master. Still, she didn't trust the other Mrr'tani. The notches in his ears told her that he was not someone that she should be associating with.

 

She stood up off the door and made her way to the table where she started cleaning up the remnants of the morning tea. While she was moving the dishes to her little sink, she thought about what it all meant and tried to figure out what to do about all the new information. By the time she finished washing out the tea pot and the cups, she'd made up her mind. She would do nothing. There was nothing to be done about it now, and she still had her duties here beneath the dome. The S'cree were over-breeding, and the Master had a hunt coming up that would need more Chailani, the canid creatures that resembled something the humans called a 'fox.' She couldn't very well have the S'cree eating all of them in the meantime.

 

The decision made, she closed the curtains tight across the windows, shed her robe and climbed back into bed, curling her long, sinuous tail around her hips as she drew the light sheet up to her shoulders. By the time her eyes closed and her breathing deepened, she had put the entire conversation out of her mind.


	2. A Servant's Heart, Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life beneath the dome moves on as Meriah tries to put aside what she's learned, hoping that things will go back to normal.

The sun was further down the horizon by the time Meriah woke again. There were no other dreams to haunt her sleep and when she woke, she felt as refreshed as ever. Her bed was in the far corner of the cabin right under one of the many windows and she reached up to pull aside the curtains and check the time. 

It was later than she had planned, but the meeting with the Master and Jacques had taken more time than she’d anticipated so she wasn’t overly worried. She’d be able to make up the lost time easily.

She let the curtain go as she started a list of the things that she needed to get done before the moon rose in a few hours. It wasn’t a long list by any means, for she had learned many years ago to leave herself plenty of time on her hunting nights to be able to rest and get into position before her prey began to show itself.

She smiled at her own lazy tendency to lay in bed for far too long in the mornings, even when the mornings were late afternoons. The bed was comfortable and familiar and she didn’t want to leave its warm embrace. But there was something else in the back of her mind that she thought may have been contributing to the laziness. She still remembered having another mind in hers and the feeling was disconcerting to say the least. When she looked inside her motivation, she realized that some of it was that she didn’t want to risk running in Jacques again. 

“He’s the Master’s manservant, downy-fur,” she chided herself with a shake of her head. She imagined that would be what Lyria would have said to her when she was being as silly as she was today. She could still hear the old gamekeeper’s voice in her head, teasing, but with that little edge of truth. 

“All right, I’ll stop being lazy,” she said to the empty cottage.

She threw her feet out of bed and headed out the door. Her cottage was far enough away from the bustle of the rest of the estate that she never worried about being seen outside in her bathing stream without her clothing. Not that it would have bothered her in the slightest anyway. Her natural state was what it was, and she was never concerned about what another thought of her. The Master was the only one who’s opinion mattered.

The morning routine was well set, and she was clean and dressed in her simple garb in only a short time. Leather trousers, made by her own hand and a brightly-dyed fabric shirt was all she needed for the first part of her day. She wasn’t going to be hunting until later, so she didn’t need the bags and the dull colored clothes that she wore to hide from her prey.

There was a tray just outside her door when she opened it again, covered with the plastic that the Master and the other Humans preferred. She could see the steam still rising from the food beneath the coverings and she took it inside with her. From her small pantry, she added a small serving of some of her leftover salted meat and a peach that she’d found on one of the trees two days earlier. With her additions, it made the meal much better than it would have been. Servant’s rations were never the best, but the Master always saw that all of his servants were fed properly, even if it wasn’t the tastiest food available. She’d heard tales from some of the others who hadn’t grown up beneath this dome about how some humans kept their servants hungry enough that they could barely work. It didn’t make any sense to her, though. She couldn’t understand why a human would starve the ones that ran the estate. It seemed to her that a partnership between the Humans and the Mrr’tani would be much more useful than some of the stories that she’d heard.

But it wasn’t her place to figure out diplomacy between the Humans and the Mrr’tani, even if such a thing existed. Her world existed under the dome, and her life wasn’t going to take care of itself. She scooped up the dishes and ran them under the water from the well outside before she put them neatly in place for the house servant to take back to the kitchen. Before she covered the tray, though, she slipped in a small, leaf-wrapped package of the last of her salted meat. The servant who picked her tray up would have a little extra today since she was going to have more than enough to preserve with the S’cree from last night and the one that she was planning on taking tonight. Little Rebecca should be coming to take her tray today unless she was sick, and Meriah would have heard something if she was. Rebecca was just nearing the maturing stage and she’d be happy for the extra meat.

Tray covered, Meriah took a look over her cottage and closed the door behind her. The walk to the main house would take her a little more than fifteen minutes, so she had time to collect the watering can, fill it from the well, and give a splash of water to the brilliant patch of violet and maroon flowers she had growing outside her door. She smiled at the beautiful colors and the way that they made the front of her cottage inviting to anyone walking by. She knew she could be gruff at times about her duties, but she always tried to be inviting for the others to come and visit if they liked. There was never a day that she didn’t have a guest for tea unless the others knew that she was hunting, then they left her to sleep.

Around the back of the cottage were her pens. She had young of almost every species beneath the dome, at least the ones that the Master enjoyed hunting, and the ones that kept the predators fed. Lyria always had a thing for eggs when Meriah was growing, and Meriah had inherited the taste, so in the center of the pens was a large chicken coop. Meriah had just enough time to collect the day’s offerings and stow them in the cold box with the S’cree carcass, pulling out half a dozen and throwing them in a soft sling bag around her shoulder before she headed up the path towards the main house. 

Something she always enjoyed about her hunting days was that she could start later in the day when the sun was low in the sky, giving her a perfect view of the estate when she crested the first hill. There wasn’t too much in the way of hills beneath the dome, but the one that separated her cottage from the main house was one of the tallest in the estate. The Master had once said that hills that were too large would disrupt something in the dome and they wouldn’t be able to live here, so when they first came, they leveled the ground to what they needed. Still, from the top of her hill, she could see far across the estate, to where the edge of the dome faded from view. She couldn’t imagine the power that was needed to build something so massive. It proved that the humans were certainly a very powerful species. The Mrr’tani would never have dreamed up something so audacious as what she now lived under.

The land stretched out before her as she walked, and she could see the fields off to the east and the large stone building that housed almost sixty Mrr’tani looked small enough to be a toy. To the east was the forest that stretched out from her cottage. She could see the carefully maintained hunting grounds where the Master and his guests stood with their rifles waiting for her to flush their prey from the trees. It was the middle of the warm season now, so it would be many weeks before she was again called upon for that duty. She always had trouble waiting for those days, though. She enjoyed the thrill the Master got from his sport.

And to the north, the view was dominated by the main house. It was a sprawling mansion that looked much like the castles she saw in the Master’s history books when he allowed her to read them. Grey stone walls rose up out of the earth, too perfectly aligned to be natural. The faces of the walls were smooth without purchase to climb even a few feet off the ground. Where the castles in the history books had imposing stone with few windows, though, the main house seemed almost dominated by the glass reflecting the afternoon sun. Each side had windows that stretched up three stories with high arches and she could see the white curtains on either side even from this far away. 

The Mistress took great pride in her home and the way that it was presented, and she ensured that it was always open to the sun. During the summer months, the windows were usually open as well, letting the air flow through the entirety. Meriah smiled as she watched the slender figure of the Mistress walking across the second floor to one of the smaller windows. She leaned out as she opened it and Meriah could see that she was conversing with someone on the ground below. She couldn’t hear what was being said, but she didn’t need to. The Mistress was obviously happy about something, and the way her body almost draped out the window told Meriah that today would be a good day for her to ask for the small things that she needed for her cottage. The Mistress could be kind when she was in a good mood, but she could also be petty when she was angered, even with someone who wasn’t the target of her anger. Meriah had learned to avoid her when she could tell she was angry, going instead to the other Mrr’tani when she needed things badly enough that it couldn’t wait.

“Ho, Meriah!” a voice called from behind and to her left. 

Her ears swiveled on her head and her face followed shortly after, scenting the air as was her habit. A large Mrr’tani male walked around a short rock wall covered in ivy. He carried a sling bag very similar to Meriah’s and his clothing was almost the same as hers, save that his trousers were made of the usual canvas material that most of the other Mrr’tani favored. He was much larger than her, both in height and in breadth.

“Ho, James,” Meriah called back. 

James was one of the heavy laborers on the estate. He was the one that the Master called when he needed muscle. James would say that he had most of the muscle under the dome, but very little of the brains, but Meriah disagreed. He wasn’t traditionally intelligent, and he couldn’t read, no matter how many times anyone had tried to get him to learn, but he knew things about the estate and about the comings and the goings. Meriah thought of him as world wise, and also as a good friend.

“Another hunt today? I heard you got a S’cree last night. That’s some good shooting, girl.”

“No better than usual, James,” Meriah said with a dismissive wave. There was no denying that she was the best shot with a bow or a rifle among any that lived under the dome, the Master included. She didn’t like to draw attention to that, though.

“Still got the feathers?” James asked, an eager tone in his voice.

“Yes,” Meriah said with a laugh. “I didn’t forget you, James. I’ll have more tonight, otherwise I’d have brought them with me for you. I need quills, though.”

She never asked what James did with the feathers, since she never saw him wearing any. She was curious of course, but she would never intrude on his privacy. The thing that made her world work best was knowing who needed what and making sure that if she could get what others needed, then they would have a share in it. Besides, James kept her in quills for her journals and the little writing that she had to do for her duties, and once he’d presented her with a down quilt for her small bed.

“I think I can spare a few for you. Who are you writing to, anyway?”

It was a fair question, since she was one of the few Mrr’tani who couldn’t remember a life outside the dome.

“Lyria,” Meriah answered, turning her eyes to the road in front of her. She fought the urge to lower her eyes as she spoke.

“I’m sure she enjoys reading your letters,” James said softly. He reached out a hand and put it on Meriah’s shoulder and gave her a small squeeze. 

Meriah could feel the power in that grip, but along with the strength came a friendliness that bordered on love. The large male was far past her in age, and there would never be romance between them, but she felt safe when she was around him, and he made her feel appreciated. James was also one of her most frequent visitors for tea since he chose to live in a very small lean-to on the far side of the fields from the laborer’s dormitory. He said it was because he snored and the others couldn’t sleep, but Meriah suspected he had other motives for it.

“Going to see the Mistress?” James asked, changing the subject.

“Yes. I need some things for my kitchen, and I’m low on salt. I need more to preserve the meat from my hunts.”

“Good day for it. Don’t know why, but she’s in a better mood than I’ve ever seen her.”

Meriah raised an eyebrow and twitched her tail in obvious curiosity.

“Well, it’s just tales, you understand, but some of the boys think it’s because of that new manservant the Master brought in.”

Meriah frowned and shook her head. “What do you know about him, James?”

“Ragged old bristle-fur, that one. Got two notches, did you know? Damn close to the camps. May be that the Master thinks he can get him all nice and shiny again.”

“Hmm,” Meriah muttered. “I saw him with the Master early this morning. They visited my cottage.”

“Don’t say,” James said with an interested smile. “What for? You don’t usually meet the new manservants, do you?”

“No,” Meriah answered, “I mean, yes I meet them eventually, when I have to meet with the Master, but he’s never brought one to the cottage before.”

“That’s pretty strange, then,” James agreed.

“James, what would you say to tea and dinner later tonight? I’ve got extra rations for the hunt, and I can share some of my meat. I think the Master even slipped a bottle of mead into the cold box when I wasn’t looking.”

“Mead, you say? Well, then I’m all yours, my dear. My shift is up at sunset, how about I visit then?”

“That would do just fine.”

“In that case, I’ll look forward to it. Even more than I usually do dinners with you.”

Meriah smiled shyly and gave the big Mrr’tani a swat on the arm.

“Take care of yourself, James. I’ll see you tonight.”

“And you, Meriah.”

James turned and headed back towards a small copse of trees on the other side of the small wall and Meriah could see the beginnings of a hunting blind being built into the trees. She knew just with a glance that it meant she would be having many hunts the coming season and that she was going to need to find another breeding pair of elk. She frowned with the thought. Keeping elk in her pens was always a risky proposition. The ones from the forest, when she could catch them, didn’t really enjoy being caught, nor did they make it easy for her to keep them in the pens. Usually, though, the female would settle down when she had her young. They weren’t the rarest creatures on the estate, but the Master and his guests had a distinct taste for hunting them. It suited Meriah because when she was helping with the hunts, the Master always allowed her a share of the meat and the hide in return for her butchering the animal for them, so it was well worth her while.

She watched James a little while longer as he lumbered away and then she smiled and went on her own way, careful of the sling of eggs over her shoulder. As she came closer to the main house, she could tell that James was right about the Mistress’ mood. She could hear her singing almost before she arrived at the outer wall, her high voice carrying on the wind, almost like a bird singing. Meriah tried not to wince at the sound. The Mistress always thought she could sing better than she could, though no one had the heart or the courage to tell her that she really didn’t. The sound of the off-key singing stopped just as Meriah reached the back door to the kitchen and she rolled her eyes in amusement at the momentary break.

When she opened the heavy door, a blast of warm, fragrant air hit her full on. The enticing scent of cooking meat, fresh baked bread, and all the other wonderful scents of a working kitchen swirled around her, making her stomach growl as she stepped across the threshold. She pulled the door shut behind her, making a thump loud enough that the large Mrr’tani female at the oven stood up quickly and turned around to face her. She held a large cast-iron pan in her hand, almost in a combative stance.

“Peace, Rose,” Meriah called out, “it is only me.”

“Meriah, you sneaky kit. You about scared the fur off me,” Rose chided, setting the pan down on the counter. “Make some noise next time, why don’t you?”

“I do try, Rose,” Meriah said, her tone making it clear that she didn’t really try all that hard. It was a running joke between the two of them, since Meriah had known the cook for as long as she’d known the Master. Rose was also one of the few on the estate that had been born there.

“I know, love,” Rose said with a grin. “It’s all that hunting. You have the gift of sure and silent feet, that’s for sure.”

Meriah stiffened slightly and her ears pricked forward at the mention of her having the gift and for a moment, she wondered if she had spoken with the Master or Jacques about her, but then she realized that it wasn’t what she meant and she relaxed.

“What’s for dinner tonight, Rose?” Meriah asked, changing the subject as she walked further into the kitchen.

“For the Master or for you?”

“Either one.” 

Meriah set the sling of eggs on the counter as she talked and she across at Rose.

“Well, if that’s what I think it is, then you might be having a little bit of the roast that’s there in the oven.”

Rose walked across the room as Meriah pulled up one of the many stools available in the kitchen. Some of the work in the morning was intensive and the cook’s helpers used them to rest while they kneaded the dough for the bread and made the pastries for the day. Now, though, it was late afternoon, and all the activity had died down to just Rose making her usual dinner for the Master. Since he wasn’t entertaining guests currently, there was no need for extra help or for anything fancy. 

“Half dozen eggs, fresh from my coop.”

“So that’ll be roast and vegetables for you for dinner, then. I’ll have Rebecca bring it to you at Zenith.”

“That’ll be fine, Rose,” Meriah said. She always took her dinners close to the moon’s zenith when she was on the hunt. It ended up being towards the middle of her day that way. 

“You didn’t come all the way down here just for eggs. You’d have send them with Rebecca if that was the case.”

Meriah shook her head. “No. I need some spices and some salt.”

Rose just smiled and started pulling some things from the cabinets. She didn’t even bother to ask permission or send her to speak with the Master or the Mistress. They’d been doing this dance for many, many years, and both of them knew the esteem the Master held them in. Both were perfectly reasonable in their use of their resources and there was never a problem. She slid some small corked jars into Meriah’s sling.

“You know where the salt is, kit. Go and fetch it. I’m too old to be carrying it around.”

Meriah shook her head and chuckled. She knew exactly where the salt was and she headed through a heavy wooden door on the far side of the kitchen. It was a route she’d taken many times before, and she hardly had to turn on the light to get down and find what she was looking for. At the bottom of the stairs, she found the bags of salt and she bent to pick one up. Something familiar hit her in the back of her mind the moment her fingers closed on the bag, and she stood bolt upright. There was again another mind in the back of hers. This time, though, it had a different feeling than what she felt from Jacques. This time it felt more feminine, and much more subtle. But what it lacked in volume, it made up for in clarity.

There was a sharp feeling of anxiety, mixed with a tinge of pleasure and a very little taste of fear that died down almost immediately. She stood there for what seemed like ages, sampling and tasting the feelings in the back of her mind, trying to figure out who she was sensing this time, and why.

“Meriah,” called a very familiar voice, “come up, please.”

The Mistress was one who expected to be obeyed immediately and without delay, so Meriah heaved the bag of salt onto her shoulders and hurried up the stairs. When she came out of the cellar, she saw Rose back at the oven, not even turning to look at her. That must have been what she felt, the Mistress telling her to get back to work. The anxiety was calmed again, though, even if it was overshadowed by Meriah’s own thundering heart. She’d never seen the Mistress in the kitchen before. With the Master bringing Jacques by her cottage and the Mistress acting strangely, she felt her body responding almost to a threat. She had to consciously talk herself down in her mind to get herself to relax.

She gave a quick glance at Rose and then she looked back at the Mistress and she bowed just as deeply as she did for the Master. The Mistress didn’t touch her as the Master did, though, and she didn’t allow her to straighten right away. Meriah could feel the weight of the salt on her shoulder as she held her bow, though she dared not straighten.

“Be at ease, Meriah,” the Mistress said at last. 

“Of course, My Lady,” Meriah answered. She straightened and set the bag of salt on the counter next to her and waited patiently.

The Mistress was very beautiful for a human, slender and just barely taller than Meriah with pale skin and blue eyes that reminded Meriah of the ice over the forest lake in the winter. She was dressed as she always was in the summer, in a sun dress of light, gauzy material that flowed around her as she moved, and her long golden hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and chest. 

The Mistress looked Meriah over as well, keeping silent while she did. 

“You’ve come for supplies, then?”

“Yes, My Lady. I am hunting this week and I need salt for the meat.”

“Your hunts are going well?”

Meriah nodded. “Yes, My Lady.”

She hated the way that the Mistress asked question after question without even seeming to acknowledge the answer to the previous one. Though she was friendly enough, she had a way of putting Meriah on edge. What was worse was that Meriah knew that she didn’t even realize she was doing it. But she wouldn’t dare say anything to correct her. That simply wasn’t done.

“Very well, then. Carry on, Meriah. I’m sure Rose doesn’t need you lollygagging around here distracting her from dinner.”

“No My Lady,” Meriah said as she picked the bag of salt back up and threw it on her shoulder.

“Oh, and Rebecca will be delivering something this evening, Meriah. A birthday gift from the Master and me.”

“You are too kind, My Lady. It is enough that you care for me and the Mrr’tani under the dome.”

“That’s very polite, Meriah, but not to worry, I’m sure you’ll find the gift agreeable. Now, on your way. I’m sure you have a lot to do before the sun goes down.”

“Yes, My Lady,” Meriah agreed. She gave the Mistress a small smile and collected her bag then headed out the door, still feeling Rose in her mind.

When the door was closed and she was on her way away from the house, she focused a little more on the feeling that was fading, and she realized that it was in a very subtly different part of her mind than she felt it when Jacques was near. It almost felt like Jacques and Rose were like the plugs that powered everything in the main house and they ended up plugging into different sockets in her mind. It was another mystery to figure out.

She didn’t have time, though, to figure it out right now. She still had to get back to her cottage and start the preservation of her prey from the previous evening. Then she had to get everything ready for the hunt tonight. She might come away empty handed, which was why she allowed herself an entire week to take three S’cree, but she always had to be prepared nonetheless.

_And besides_ , she thought as she headed down the road, _I’ll have plenty to trade when I get done._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meriah learns about her people and also about herself. Things are starting to change for her and she has yet to find what it means.

The sun was setting over the horizon when Meriah finished sealing the top on the bucket of meat she had just finished seasoning and salting. She stood up, wiped her brow and then carried the bucket with her to the small, inconspicuous machine just off the side of her porch. It stood about the size of her small refrigerator in her cottage, stretching to her shoulders, and it was wide enough that she could climb in which she did on occasion when it needed cleaning. There was already another bucket inside and she stacked the second on top of the first then closed the door, giving it a good thump with her hand to ensure it was closed tightly. Then she poked the button on the front panel that started the machine. By the morning, her meat would be salted and preserved, and she’d be able to take it anywhere.

She smiled at the little conveniences that the Master allowed her to have. In her reading, she learned that before the humans had take to the stars, it had taken months of time to cure meat to the same quality that the machine could in only half a day. It always seemed that the Master knew what she needed and he provided just enough, as if he knew that she didn’t want to become dependent on the humans machines. It wasn’t the way of the Mrr’tani to be surrounded all the time with the clatter and artificiality of the constructs. Her world was in the trees.

She had put the feelings of earlier out of her head while she worked, concentrating on the tasks that needed to be done before she even considered trying to figure out what was going on. It was easy to let herself be pulled into her work to the point that she didn’t need to think about anything beyond the task at hand. It was something that Lyria had taught her when she was still living here. No sense in letting the mind wander all over things that she couldn’t do anything about. Much better to put her whole effort into doing what needed to be done.

It was fairly short-lived, though, when she felt the twinge back in the corners of her mind of yet a different mind. This one was very quiet, and she had to concentrate to find it amongst the other thoughts cluttering her head. It was like looking at someone through the wrong end of the Master’s telescope, small, quiet and far away. As she focused on it, though, she could feel it getting closer. 

It was definitely masculine, and there was a surety about it that she couldn’t help but envy. There was no fear hidden in its depths, not even a touch, and the feeling that she got was of someone completely positive that they were who and where they needed to be. This mind was the simplest yet, and it was the strongest. She felt as if she could close her eyes and let that simplicity surround her, washing away the complexity of the world and boiling it down to its very essence. 

She smiled as she put it all together. It was James. There wasn’t anyone else it could be, not with that feeling. She frowned, though, still wondering why she was feeling yet another of the Mrr’tani. She couldn’t help the feeling that something was going terribly wrong, or that someone was playing some sort of immense practical joke on her. But the person that she wanted to talk to about it was coming down her path, she could hear him whistling the same tune that he always did.

With a quick wash of her hands at the well, she walked into the house to collect the tray for dinner and she brought it out to the small table that she set up outside near her pens. She liked to be close to her animals, and she knew that James wouldn’t mind in the slightest. Out of all the others that ever came to her cottage, he was the one that was the most like her, or at least the one that didn’t complain about anything. After tasting his mind in hers, she was starting to realize why that was.

“Ho, Meriah!” James called when he was close enough to the gate.

“Ho, James,” Meriah called back, beckoning him around to join her.

He smiled his usual good-natured smile and let himself in the gate and followed her around to the pens. She watched him for a moment before she turned to lead the way to the table. His stride reflected the same confidence that she felt in his mind, and though she had a habit of constantly looking around and being aware of his surroundings, James’ focus was eerily intense, especially as it was focused on her.

“Looks like I’m just in time,” James said, seeing the spread on the table. 

Meriah flushed and nodded her head, looking over the table herself. It wasn’t anything fancy, but she’d put together a couple of rations and stretched them out with some of the last of the hare she’d shot the day before and piled high on both sides of the table were vegetables from her modest little garden. 

“Come, sit,” Meriah said, trying to cover her bashful display at the lack of anything special on the table.

“Don’t mind if I do.”

James took the invitation and sat himself in the larger of the two chairs, an old habit developed over many visits between him and Meriah. Meriah took her own seat and pulled the bottle of mead up from where she’d hidden it behind a table leg.

“Ah!” James remarked with a smile, “I was hoping you weren’t lying to me. The Master’s mead is some of the best in the system.”

“That’s what they keep telling me, but I’ve never had any from anywhere else. The Master doesn’t import it.”

“Well why would he, when he’s got the best stuff right here?”

Meriah laughed and shrugged. “Point.”

She poured the mead as James’ eyes wandered over the pens and the animals contained within.

“Looks like that hog there’s getting to be about ripe for some meat.”

Meriah nodded and surveyed the large pig happily wallowing in her pen. Her life was getting on and if she wanted to have any decent meat from her, the butcher’s block wasn’t too far off. She felt the familiar stab of discomfort at the thought of taking a life, something that always came whenever she thought about it, but this evening, it was stronger than usual and she thought back to the dream in which she’d switched places with both the field rat and the S’cree. She was feeling other Mrr’tani, but the first thoughts about her gift were about the animal that she’d killed just before.

“What’s got your tail, girl?” James asked. 

Meriah shook her head and capped the bottle of mead when she was finished pouring, setting it aside for later. She wasn’t going to have more than the one glass, since she had to hunt and she needed a clear head when she was out, but she would give James all that he wanted and she was already planning on sending the bottle home with him.

“After dinner, James. It’s been a very strange day, and right now, I want to enjoy some dinner with my friend.”

“Fair enough,” he replied with a smile, reaching out his big hand to wrap around the full stein of mead.

Meriah watched with a grin as he sampled it. He always had a peculiar way of it, taking a very small sip and swirling it around his mouth a couple times. Then he took a greedy gulp from the glass and set it down with an explosive sigh.

“The Master’s outdone himself this time. Is that apple I taste?”

Meriah shrugged. 

“You’re the mead expert, James. I only drink the stuff when the Master leaves it for me.”

Now that she thought about it, the Master always seemed to leave her a bottle either right before or right after she’d invited James to dinner. She smiled at the realization. It wouldn’t do for him to have too many favorites. Everyone beneath the dome knew that the Master favored Meriah, it was rather expected as she’d been here since she was a kit, and the Master had almost raised her. The Master also didn’t have any children of his own, and one of the persistent rumors going around the dome since she could understand words was that the Master considered her as a surrogate daughter. 

While he could get away with that with her, she also knew the opinion of some of the Master’s human visitors about the station of the Mrr’tani when it came to social interactions. They would have questioned him if he showed too much generosity to his servants, so he was apparently making it a point to deliver his gifts in a more acceptable manner. It had just taken her that long to figure it out.

Dinner, while not fancy, was tasty. It was made all the more so with the addition of the hare. She’d put her own blend of spices on the meat and seared it over the open flame of her stove and she couldn’t have been happier with the way that it turned out. Soon, James was leaning back in his chair with the empty dishes piled in front of him. Meriah always served herself much less than James, and there was nothing to go to waste on either side. 

“All right, kit, tell me,” James said, grinning across the table at her. “Something’s obviously got you all riled. I haven’t seen you on edge like this since that bearcat chased you home.”

Meriah laughed, remembering the same event where she’d angered a bearcat, one of the most aggressive and mean-tempered predators in the dome. It had chased her home and it took her, Lyria, James and two other laborers to bring it down. She’d been almost afraid to go into the woods for a week after that. Now she could taste the curiosity in James’ mind as his kind green eyes regarded her from across the table.

“What do you know of us, James?” Meriah asked.

“Of us? You mean the people on the estate?”

“No, of us. Of the Mrr’tani. You’re older than me, so you must know something.”

James looked levelly at her for a moment before he answered, and his mind changed from curiosity to something very different. She could tell by the feeling there that he was trying to figure things out, and at the same time, trying to figure out how much to tell her.

“You do know something,” Meriah said. It wasn’t a question.

The only sign from James was a raised brow and a flick of an ear, but Meriah felt the spike in his feelings. Surprise, shock, and a little bit of guilt.

“Why are you so sure, kit?” James asked. His voice was cautious and guarded and she couldn’t help but wonder why. 

“I want to know about gifts,” Meriah said. She raised her eyes to James’ and looked full into his. “And about Mothers.”

For the first time, she saw James physically react, moving in his chair as if to relieve an itch or get more comfortable. She might have put it off to him settling in, but the feelings were perfectly clear in the back of her mind. They drowned out her own curiosity and stubbornness. The shock was plain, as was the inquisitive feeling. 

“There’s no use in playing dumb with you, is there?” James asked. Meriah didn’t answer because she knew it wasn’t something that required an answer.

“Can you feel me right now, Meriah?”

Meriah considered for a second, and then nodded slowly. She could feel her heart beating quicker at the admission, the first time she’d admitted to anyone that there was anything different about her.

“Just me, or have you felt others?”

“It was Jacques at first,” Meriah admitted, reaching out to play with the small pile of hare bones on her plate.

James’ eyes widened and then they narrowed beneath a furrowed brow. “I knew the Master didn’t bring him in to be a manservant. He’s likely a tracker, then.”

“He said that he had the gift but it was weaker in males.”

“He’s right. How much do you know about the Mrr’tani, Meriah?”

“Very little. Just what I’ve read in the Master’s books.”

“Those books are nothing, Meriah. History written by the winners. The humans think we’re nothing more than backwards savages, stuck in some era they left behind long ago.”

“If they’re not right, then how do we know where we came from?” Meriah asked with a frown.

“The Mothers used to pass down our history. They were the keepers of our tales and they were the glue that held us all together. It’s been hundreds of years since the humans came and scattered us, so all we have left are the stories that some of us pass down. I’m surprised that you haven’t heard them yet.”

“Lyria used to tell me stories when I was falling asleep, but I don’t remember them very well. I don’t know if they were about us or not.”

“You were young. Probably too young to really understand,” James said, finishing the rest of his mead. 

Meriah reached under the table and poured another glass for him, then set the bottle on the table within easy reach. 

“All right, sit back and I’ll tell you a little story.”

Meriah smiled and made herself comfortable in the chair, letting the sounds of the coming night surround her. A quiet breeze blew the scent of jasmine around from the front of her cottage. 

“Back before any of us could remember, the Mrr’tani lived on a single planet, Mss'delai. It’s said that it was a perfect society. There was no war, no hunger, no poverty. We were all our own person, but every Mrr’tani lived to assist the whole. Every Mrr’tani had their own life, their own home, their own clan and their own family, and most were happy to give what they could to each other. 

Every clan had a Mother. Back then, the Mothers were a little more common and they happened about once every generation. They were born with the gift to link other Mrr’tani. It was through them that the tribes and the clans maintained harmony. They could feel the others around them, see into their hearts and their minds.”

“You mean that they could control others?” Meriah asked.

“No,” James answered, “they didn’t control anyone, they simply looked into another and saw what was in their mind or their heart. They could tell when someone was lying or when there was ill intent in their heart. Imagine trying to steal from another, or harboring the desire to kill another, and having someone that could feel that in you.”

“So they punished the people that committed crimes?”

“No, they weren’t about punishment. They could feel all of their clan, and they knew when someone was hurting or when someone was having a problem, and the way that the Mrr’tani were, there would always be someone who could help them. Evil is built from suffering, Meriah. It doesn’t usually just happen that someone is evil. They’re always suffering in some way, and that leads them to do whatever they need to do to feel better. The Mothers, they saw that suffering, they felt it in a very real way in all of the clans, and they made certain to do something about it when it was still merely suffering, before it had the chance to blossom into evil.”

“You said that every generation had a Mother. Is it hereditary? Was my mother a Mother?” Meriah asked, suddenly very curious.

James shook his head. “No. Mothers could never pass on their gifts. A Mother of a clan couldn’t have children. They were always sterile.”

Meriah nodded, still curious about her own mother. She’d wondered about her off and on throughout her life, though she’d never known either of her parents. “What happened?” she asked.

“Humans happened, Meriah. One day, one of their star ships landed on the Mrr’tani world. They were strange and new, and at first everyone welcomed them as they would another of their own kind. The Mrr’tani had never had to worry about another that a Mother hadn’t already felt. But these humans were new, and the Mothers couldn’t feel them. It was like a disease. Little by little, the human way of thinking and doing worked its way into our clans, turning the Mrr’tani against one another. The humans couldn’t understand the link that our people had with each other. They looked at our society and they couldn’t imagine that we were happy and healthy. They saw the world through one set of eyes, like we do now, instead of the multiple that we used to have.

The Mothers began to realize what was happening and the danger that it held, but they realized too late. The humans had studied the clans and they knew about the Mothers. Only when they knew what they were dealing with did they make their true intentions clear.”

“The night of blood,” Meriah muttered. Her eyes widened as she realized that she’d just said the words aloud. She didn’t even know where the words came from, but she could feel some deep recognition in her mind. It was a realization that held nothing but dread and hatred and she could feel her heart beating faster and her hands clenching into fists on her lap. She closed her eyes and for a moment, she could hear screams and feel the licking of flames on her face.

And then it was gone, leaving her to unclench her fists and rub at the small pinpricks where her claws had dug into her palms. When she looked back across the table, James’ face showed his concern and he leaned forward, bracing his arms on his knees.

“Yes, the night of blood,” he said, eying her curiously. 

“Tell me,” Meriah demanded.

“Mrr’tani collaborators worked with some of the humans. Some of them wanted their technology, some of them craved wealth, some power. Some thought that the humans had the means to help them live forever, and still others were told that the humans could make them like the Mothers. Whatever their reasons, they singled out every Mother of every clan, even the kits. In one single night, the humans slaughtered every last living Mother.”

The hatred came welling up again from the deepest corner of Meriah’s mind and she had to fight to keep it down. She could feel her lips moving back from her teeth, baring her fangs in a savage snarl while she shuddered with the overwhelming, all-consuming nature of the pure, black rage.

“Meriah,” James called. 

She couldn’t respond. The feeling was pushing its way to the front of her mind, threatening to take her over, and for the first time that she could remember, she wanted to just lay back and let it happen. The story was too shocking. Humans, doing that to her people? Humans like the Master? Her own kept trying to sort it out while the other mind, the one that was blind with rage and fury fought to get to the front. 

Then there was the feeling of James, still there in the back of her mind, and as she stared out her eyes across the table, almost like looking through another’s eyes, she could see his intense stare. And with that stare came an increase in the feeling that she could feel from him. It pushed its way into the darkness, and where it touched, her mind stilled. Little by little, he pushed back the rage and the hate until it was only her and him in her mind.

“What happened?” she asked quietly. She could barely get the words out, and when she did, it didn’t feel like it was her speaking. Her voice sounded alien.

“I’ll answer you, Meriah, but first you have to tell me what you heard from Jacques.”

Meriah felt the intensity both from his gaze and in her mind. There would be no moving him from this request, she realized. She wrestled with herself about how much to tell him, or whether she wanted to involve him with whatever was going on.

“Tell me everything, Meriah,” he said. “I know you’re waffling, girl.”

“How do you know?” Meriah asked.

“Because I was a tracker, Meriah.”

Behind those words, Meriah could taste the truth of what he was saying, but even beyond that was a guilt and a remorse so deep that she couldn’t do more than just scratch the surface. None of that showed in his face, however, it was still just the intense gaze that he hadn’t deviated from when he’d pushed away the rage.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “What is a tracker?”

“My question first, Meriah,” James demanded.

Meriah sighed, knowing that she wasn’t going to get anywhere further without answering his question. She could feel the steel resolve that wasn’t present before.

“Jacques told the Master that I have the gift, and that he wasn’t sure if I was a Mother.” Meriah’s voice was quiet and she watched James across the table. He didn’t move, but the intensity in his eyes dimmed just a little. “I didn’t know what it meant. I still don’t understand. How could I be a Mother? I’m just Meriah.”

“No one is ‘just’ anything, Meriah,” James said. He sat back in his chair and sipped his mead while he thought and Meriah could feel the line moving through his thoughts. More than anyone else, she could feel him the most. It was almost like she could reach down and find the thread of his thoughts, so different than her own, and look at what it was saying. Almost, but not quite, like listening through an ocean or reading through the bottom of a translucent bottle. She knew something was there, but she couldn’t bring it into focus, and she couldn’t quite understand it.

“What are you saying, James? That I’m some…some goddess or great leader or something?”

James smiled across at her and shook his head. “No, Meriah. I’m saying that you very well may be a young Mother. I can feel it in you, that gift. And I know you can feel me there.”

Meriah nodded. “You’re not the only one. I could feel Jacques and then I could feel Rose. But you’re the clearest.”

“Some of it has to do with trust, Meriah. The ones that you trust the most will be the ones that you can feel the strongest. At least right now.” James furrowed his brow and leaned forward over the table, catching her eyes with his. “What I don’t understand is why I didn’t feel it before. Even now, it’s hard to hold on to you.”

Meriah still felt a thousand questions lingering in her mind, just begging to be asked. There was so much that she didn’t know, that she didn’t understand, but there was one that stuck out in her mind that she had to know the answer to.

“What did you mean that you used to be a tracker, James? What does that mean?”

Meriah felt another stab of guilt and pain in the part of her mind that she now recognized was James. It was sharp and immediate, and for only an instant, she felt that there might be no end to it. But as quick as she felt it, it was blocked off from her.

“There’s a reason that the Mrr’tani haven’t come together again since the night of blood, Meriah. The humans don’t completely understand what it is that makes the Mothers who and what they are, but they do know that having them around is dangerous. For a hundred years after that night, there were uprisings. Mrr’tani banded together around young Mothers that were just coming into their gifts and they fought against the humans. Eventually the humans found out what was happening, and now they find any Mrr’tani female that could possibly be a mother.”

“What do you mean, they find them?”

“I mean the trackers. They find the young Mothers and they deliver them to the humans. Usually it’s to their owners, but sometimes they take them to the council.”

“The council? What happens to them?”

“If they’re young enough when they’re found, the tracker points them out to their owner,” James paused, hesitating in his description. “The owner kills them.”

Meriah’s eyes widened and she forced herself back in the chair, not wanting to believe a word that James was saying, but the feeling that she got from him was too real, too full of truth for her to doubt it. She felt her fingers on her lips before she realized she’d even moved her hand. There was a sick feeling in the very bottom of her stomach and she swallowed reflexively to keep gorge down that was rising in her throat.

“The older ones were delivered to the council. I never knew what happened to them, not for sure, but I heard a lot of stories. The owners were much kinder than the council.”

Meriah didn’t want to think about what the human council might be doing to Mrr’tani girls that would make death at their owners hands seem kinder by comparison. And then her thoughts came back around.

“Wait, you said that Jacques was a tracker? But he told the Master that I’m…” she cut off as everything started to sink in. “The Master.”

“He’s a good man, Meriah. He wouldn’t have brought Jacques here if he meant to hurt you. The humans don’t like him because he’s been one of the voices of reason against the council, and he’s one of the more powerful humans, otherwise they would never have tolerated what he believes. I don’t know what he’s doing bringing that old notcher here, but he must have some kind of play.”

Meriah tried to see the reasoning in James’ belief, twisting her fingers together just to feel something that connected her to the world, to where she was before this conversation even started. 

“Jacques said that he couldn’t feel a trace of me when he was trying and that he thought I was a Mother because of how I acted around him. Do you think that I’m not? Maybe I just have a little of the gift like you do.” She tried to keep the desperation out of her voice, trying to find any reason that would explain what was going on without being in danger of her life.

James shook his head. “No, Meriah. I can feel you plainly. If I was still a tracker, I’d have already given you up.”

“But you’re not, right?” Meriah asked, curiosity tinging her voice.

“No. Never again. Too many Mrr’tani have died because of me, too many children. I was going to run, was going to find a way to get away, but the Master bought me right before I could. I think my old owner sensed that I wasn’t going to be doing my duty any longer. It’s easier for the humans to sell a troublesome Mrr’tani than to deal with them, and they probably figured that they could fob me off on the Master and when I ran, he’d end up embarrassed about it.

They didn’t know that the day after he bought me, he sat me down and told me that I wasn’t ever going to have to track again. That I could be my own person.”

Meriah nodded, realizing now why he chose to live in the lean-to away from the others. She was starting to feel what it was like to have others in her head all the time when she was close enough and she was starting to thank the spirits that she had her own little cottage all the way away from anyone.

“But if you can feel me, then why couldn’t Jacques?” she asked.

“Like I said, you’re hard to hold on to, even now that I know what you feel like. Usually, I can pulls someone’s thread easy as anything, but yours are woven tight. The only reason that I can feel you right now is because of how strongly you’re tugging at my threads.”

It was like a switch, and in her mind, she dropped the little stream of thought that was James, her mind leaping away from it as if it was burning hot. Her face flushed and she lowered her eyes, feeling as if he’d caught her at something naughty.

“And now you’re gone. But you can still feel me, can’t you?”

Meriah nodded. It was more subtle and back to what it had been over the last two days, just barely there on the edge of her consciousness.

“Yes, but you’re just barely there.”

“Good,” James said. “That means that you can still start drawing others together without showing yourself to be what you are.”

James leaned across the table and gently took hold of her chin in his massive hand.

“Listen to me, Meriah, and listen good. You can’t ever tell anyone what is happening. You can’t trust anyone. Not Rose, not the Master, and certainly not the Mistress. No one can know. You are the only Mother that I’ve ever seen that can hide as you can right now. If the council finds you and knows what you are, they’ll poke and prod and they’ll cut you open to find out how you’re doing what you’re doing. Do you understand?”

Meriah could only nod, not able to find even a single word to say in return. 

James held her eyes for a moment longer and then his eyes wandered over her shoulder to the horizon where the sun was finally shedding its last rays of light before the edge of the world swallowed it. 

“Good. Now, you have hunting to do. And so do I. I’m going to find out what that old bottle-brush is up to.” James smiled at her and moved his hand to her cheek to cup his palm gently against her face. “I’ll make sure you’re safe, Meriah. You just keep your head down and do what you usually do. We’ll talk again in a few days. Best thing to do is just put it out of your mind for right now.”

She frowned. Put it out of her mind? There were so many things that she wanted to ask, so much that she needed to know, but none of it was coming, and James wasn’t going to be staying around to discuss it with her. Still, she wasn’t the innocent kit that she was when Lyria had taken her in to teach her. She had plenty of experience in doing what needed to be done, and now that she thought about it, there were plenty of times when she didn’t go near the main estate for days at a time. Surely, she could stretch out a hunt long enough that she didn’t need to see the Master or his manservant for at least a week. 

“Okay, James. I have three more nights of hunting, and I have enough salt for a while, but the Mistress will be suspicious if I don’t come to the main house for supplies soon. I can probably be gone seven days before someone thinks to come and look for me.”

“Then I’ll have to make sure that I know what’s going on before those seven days,” James said, standing and finishing off the rest of the mead straight from the bottle. “In the meantime, I’ll make sure Jacques leaves you alone. I’ve got a few tricks to keeping a manservant busy, especially with everything the Master wants us building over the next few weeks.”

Meriah nodded and tried to smile at James. It wouldn’t come at first until she saw his big, good-natured smile beaming back at her. His mind in the back of hers was full of calm and confident energy. He knew that they could do whatever they needed to do, and he was sharing that feeling with her. Feeling that with her own mind, it made her feel a little better. She couldn’t help but feel that confidence and not be infected by it. The strained smile on her face broadened with the feeling and he nodded in satisfaction. Then he turned and let himself out the gate. 

Meriah watched him go, and then collected the dishes to take them into the house. She still had to clean up and leave them for Rebecca before she gathered her things to go hunting. It was shaping up to be one interesting night.


End file.
